


What a Predicament

by wednesdaythunder



Series: Better off as Lovers [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coming Out, Fix-It, Hurt Lance (Voltron), I mean there's kinda Allura/Lance but I don't wanna tag it because yeah they don't get together, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Langst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 07, Pre-Relationship, also onesided Acxa/Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 22:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16027376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdaythunder/pseuds/wednesdaythunder
Summary: Veronica was in a bit of a predicament as she observed her brother. Namely because he was surrounded by people who were definitely into him, yet Lance did not seem to take notice of any of them._____Or: Lance has a bisexual crisis, Keith needs to figure out how (romantic) feelings work, Allura needs to do the same to be honest, and Veronica is #done





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will come to you in two parts! And finally I'm posting the continuation to my reaction fic that I promised myself and others! I was gonna wait until I had the whole thing done, but meh, hopefully posting this will motivate me to post the rest :P
> 
> As always, thanks to Luisa for checking my spelling and story structure <3
> 
> Side note: I keep bad-talking my boi Lotor here, and I mean, he’s a genocidal maniac, but he’s my son and I love the bastard, but I also want to deal with what canon has given us, so… There’s that.  
> Also, it was transcribing this from paper to my computer that I realised that “nemas problemas” is an utterly Swedish expression and I actually have no idea if people outside of my country use it… Still, it’s ridiculously funny to me so I’m keeping it in, lol.  
> Also. I know next to nothing about Star Wars * sparkles away into the distance *

Veronica was in a bit of a predicament as she observed her brother. Namely because he was surrounded by people who were definitely into him, yet Lance did not seem to take notice of any of them.

The obvious one had been the alien princess, who was so much of a cookie-cutter example of Lance’s type of girl that Veronica had almost thought that she was hallucinating when she first saw her. Oh lord, how she wanted to just go to town with the teasing (partly to catch up on three years without it). Allura had come up to Lance all blushing and everything, and it was evident that he had a thing for her as well, which was, well... Expected.

But then there was Keith, whose mere presence seemed to dictate her brother’s mood. Lance lit up like a sun whenever Keith entered a room, she’d noticed, and judging from her tête-à-tête with him, it was reasonable to conclude that he cared deeply for Lance as well. Maybe even as more than friends.

These dynamics all became even more obvious to her as Sendak was defeated, and after some days of rest, the paladins joined the relief efforts to help Earth recover from the occupation, and figure out what the next step for Voltron was. Both Keith and Allura kept sending less than subtle glances Lance’s way, and he didn’t even have the decency to notice.

It was truly a predicament, really.

* * *

Lance couldn’t help but snort as Keith pushed his bangs away for the umfteenth time that day. He was pretty sure that Keith didn’t even realise that he was doing it, and it had become more like a gesture for him, since his efforts to actually keep the bangs away from his face were completely useless anyway.

“Okay, I can’t take this anymore!” Lance announced, effectively putting a stop to their sparring session. “Dude, come here.”

Truth be told, he had wanted to train with Keith ever since his bayard had evolved, and he had been over the moon when _Keith_ had suggested it to _him_ , and not the other way around. But right in this moment, his friend was in peril, and it was paramount that Lance came to his aid since Keith didn’t even seem to _know it_.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked, all concerned, his face frowny and eyes flickering around like he was looking for a threat. It caused a chain reaction inside of Lance: an excited charge of electricity that zapped through him and left him gitty in its wake.

“I’ve spent years in space, Keith, _years_ , having to live with your outrageous mullet!” he declared and motioned for Keith to follow him from the courtyard and down the hallways of the Garrison. He had a destination in mind.

“I—wha—my hair just grows like this!” Keith protested.

“It sure does,” Lance hummed. “But if you insist on not getting a haircut like any sane person would, then _I_ insist that I get to fix it so I don’t have to look at it all the time.”

Before Keith could bicker with him any further, they had reached their destination, and so Lance punched the door button to his sister’s room open.

“Rachel!” he called out and barged in—as was his right as her twin brother. Also because he had years of siblingship to catch up on.

“Do you not knock in space, or is it sacrilege?” she snapped from where she was sitting on her bed, looking to be in the middle of a pedicure.

“Well _actually_ ,” Lance started with the intention to feed her a lie about Alteans that would be worth it later, but then Rachel noticed Keith and she wouldn’t even let him finish his awesome prank. He must be out of practise.

“Keith!” she chirped delightedly; she was laying it on thick. “What can I do for you?” She even wiggled her eyebrows.

Lance didn’t actually know if she was serious in her flirting or if this was just some weird way of teasing him, but he _did_ know that he would not let this go any further if he could stop it.

“I need to borrow your brush and a hair elastic,” he said before Keith had the chance to respond to his sister.

“What for?” she questioned.

He just pointed at Keith’s mullet.

“Fair enough,” she agreed. “But hey, Keith, if you want to, I could—”

“No! No, no, no, no, no—nope!” Lance interrupted. “I have suffered long enough; I get to fix it!” he argued as he stepped further into her room, looking around in her stuff for the things. Thankfully, they weren’t that hard to find, and he didn’t spend any time lounging about, but instead pulled Keith away with him, all while Rachel was starting to giggle somewhat hysterically behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Keith wanted to know once they were far enough away from her. Lance had stopped speed-walking away, opting instead to calmly lead them to his own room.

With a dead look on his face, Lance turned to Keith. “My twin sister was hitting on you,” he informed him. “But _for your information_ , she is so off limits that I can’t even begin to describe it. I _will_ come for you.”

Keith sputtered, which made him look like a cute, confused puppy. Damn him. “No, I—I don’t.” He shook his head, blushing rather hard. “She’s not my type,” was what Keith came up with to assure him.

Lance scoffed, though it was mostly for the sake of it, since he knew Keith well enough to tell when he was being sincere. “I’ll have you know that between Rachel and myself, we’re everyone’s type, so don’t you even start with me,” he boasted.

Keith’s face pulled a funny looking grimace and he looked kind of confused and emotionally constipated, before he schooled his features to the default frowny face. Lance had to smile; it was reassuring to know that Keith wasn’t completely changed. The old Keith was still in there, though he wasn’t as much of a hot-head anymore. Also his hair was longer.

“Come on,” Lance instructed as they entered his room. He pulled out his desk chair. “Sit.”

Keith looked hesitant yet he sat down without a word of protest. Gently, Lance started to brush through his hair, being as careful as he possibly could. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had done the same to Rachel’s nest of locks, her curls wild and beautiful. Keith’s hair a lot less kept than hers, no surprise there. It was rather tangled, though not completely hopeless.

“You know, if you’re gonna keep it so long, you should at least start using conditioner,” he commented and Keith just hummed in response. He appeared to enjoy Lance’s ministrations a great deal, which, you know, _nice_. Lance only really noticed how tense Keith had been now that he relaxed under his touch, which did funny things to Lance’s internal organs. So maybe Lance kept brushing through Keith’s hair for longer than what was strictly necessary—so what? Keith wasn’t complaining. If anything, he was like a cat being petted.

Soon enough, however, Keith’s hair was so smooth that Lance could feel himself tearing it rather than untangling it, and so he couldn’t reason with himself to keep going. Keith made a noise of protest when he put the brush down, which, whoa, _where did all of this cuteness come from?_ but Lance didn’t let it deter his mission and instead put the elastic around his wrist. He ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, analysing the situation. Quiznak, Keith’s hair was soft at this point. A bit frizzy from being brushed after its entanglement, which was to be expected, but the moment he touched it, it felt like velvet in his hands.

“Do you want a French braid or a Dutch one?” Lance wondered, which seemed to bring Keith out of his trans-like state.

“Wha?” he mumbled, which, again, had Keith been capable of being this adorable the entire time they had known each other or was this a new development? Is that was two years on a space whale with your mum taught you? Cuteness? Lance would like to report that he was Confusion.

“What kind of braid do you want? Dutch or French?” he continued anyway, hoping that Keith wouldn’t pick up on his inner turmoil. He also figured that Keith actually had no idea what he was talking about, which was what made it so fun to ask him.

“Uhhhh, French?” Keith asked rather than answered.

“You sure?” Lance joked, trying to sound serious.

“What, is it bad?” Now Keith sounded concerned, which made Lance unable to keep the tease going; a giggle escaped him. Keith’s genuine confusion was too much.

“Just messing with you,” he admitted to which Keith turned around and slapped his arm lightly in mock offence, which only made Lance laugh harder.

Keith was losing a fight with a smile of his own, and it made Lance rather pleased with himself.

“French braids are a classic,” he told Keith.

“It’s a good one?” Keith’s tone turned more serious, his eyes meeting Lance’s. They were dark pools that reminded Lance of deep space, and they were looking up at him, awaiting his assurance.

“Yeah,” Lance breathed, and Keith turned, facing forward once more, signalling for Lance to go ahead.

Without another word, Lance picked up Keith’s bangs and sectioned it up, laying the strands between his fingers. It had been a long time since he had braided anyone’s hair, so Lance took his time, making sure that the braid would hold and careful that it wouldn’t come out looking crooked. Still, all too soon, Lance reached the ends of Keith’s mullet, and he began to tie the elastic.

“So, all done,” he proudly reported and Keith’s hand immediately flew up to touch Lance’s creation.

“Woah…” was Keith’s only remark as his fingers carefully examined the braid’s structure. He turned once more to look at Lance, who took in Keith’s subtle widows peak and the few strands that the braid hadn’t been able to catch and instead softly framed Keith’s face. His hair pulled back was enough by itself to make Keith appear handsome, but the wide-eyed look of marvel directed at Lance really took it all to a whole other level.

Lance scoffed defectively. “It’s no biggie,” he insisted, turning away from Keith’s gaze to pick up the brush again. He needed to return it to Rachel anyway. But behind him, Keith rose from the chair and caught Lance’s shoulder.

“Still,” he said in a low, gravelly voice that Lance hadn’t known him capable of—until just now that is. “Thanks.”

Lance’s heart hammered in his chest like his niece was high on caffeine and having a drum concert; he could feel his face heating up at the sight of this soft, groomed, manly Keith that was smiling gently at him.

“N-nemas problemas!” Lance exclaimed—and then immediately wanted to smack himself. ‘Nemas problemas’, really? What was he, twelve?

Keith even had the audacity to chuckle at him.

“Well… I better return this so…” Lance waved the brush and then left Keith with a “See ya later, French braid!” to which Keith sputtered.

“You gave it to me!” he shouted after Lance.

“Doesn’t make it less true!” he hollered back as he ran away.

* * *

Keith had a predicament. Namely, the braid Lance had given him. Shiro had commented on it as they sat down to go through the different divisions of personnel that they would take with them into space on the Atlas. He said it suited him, which had the unintended effect of brining a smile to Keith’s lips, and he had been about to credit it to Lance, but that only made him think of Lance and back to the feeling of his fingers gently fiddling with his hair, the softness of his touch, and _that_ only made Keith’s stomach flutter as if it was filled with butterflies. Which. Hold the fuck up. Keith did _not_ get butterflies when he thought of Lance.

Only now he _did_ , all of a sudden.

Shiro seemed to sense the inner conflict within him, and moved on without comment, but instead started the meeting. Thankfully it was a small one, with Shiro, Iverson, Matt, Sam, but also Veronica. And Veronica bore her eyes into him.

It was not like Keith was unaware of his own preferences; it was been through watching Shiro with Adam that had made him start to consider what kind of person he would like to be with. To be _his_ Adam. So yeah, Keith was comfortably identifying as a gay (half) alien and that was all well and good, and while he hadn’t had an ‘active’ love life so to say, he knew what he preferred and what he didn’t. Which was why this sudden realisation was so _weird._ Lance was not his Adam. Lance was loud, infuriating, inpatient, though also thoughtful, kind, loyal and clever. And very much in love with Allura.

The thought made Keith sigh as he sank down in his seat. Even if Lance wasn’t as perpetually straight as he had come off at first, there was no denying that his feelings for Allura ran deep. How was Keith going to compete with that? She was a magical space princess after all!

Wait, no, he _wasn’t_ going to compete with that because he didn’t want Lance—regardless of what the butterflies said.

“So…” Shiro drawled once the meeting had been concluded and the two of them were walking side by side down a hallway. “What’s up with the braid?” he inquired, seemingly revelling in the apparent embarrassment that mentioning the braid brought Keith.

“It’s nothing,” Keith replied sourly.

“When did you learn to braid your hair? Is it like a Marmoran rite of passage? Kolivan taught you?” Shiro teased.

“No.”

“Come on, Keith, you know I’m just gonna keep bugging you.” He actually jabbed Keith in the side, like _that_ would somehow make Keith comply and open up.

“Still not talking,” Keith persisted.

“Come oooon. Keeeeeeeeeeith.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a captain now?” He paused. “Grandpa.”

Shiro gasped dramatically. “My own protégé! Betrayal!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Keith told him.

“And you’re deflecting,” Shiro shot back.

“And now I’m leaving you,” Keith said, picking his pace up.

“Where are you going?” Shiro called after him.

“Promised Acxa I’d spar with her today.”

“Oooooh!” Shiro cat-called even though he knew perfectly well just how gay Keith was.

Keith made quick business of changing out of his uniform and into more comfortable training attire, provided by the Garrison, which were the their rather jarring orange signature colour.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Keith apologised to Acxa once he finally made it to the indoors training facility, where Acxa had already started to stretch. The place had softened floors, so while not so big as the courtyard that he and Lance usually met up by, it was ideal for the hand to hand combat that Acxa had requested.

“I just arrived,” she told him and then regarded his new braid for a moment. “It suits you,” she commented.

“Thanks. You ready?” he asked, not really willing to stay on the subject of the darn braid. In lieu of answering, Acxa attacked.

Keith had found that he enjoyed sparring with Acxa. She was really good and constantly kept him on his toes—and she didn’t pull her punches which both Shiro and Krolia had a tendency to do, unintentional or not. In a lot of ways, Acxa was a great friend to have; she was calm, thoughtful and level-headed, yet still passionate about the things that mattered to her. Once she had opened up to the team about her experiences with Lotor, Keith had known that going back for her had been the right choice.

She was also vicious, and sooner than Keith would have liked, she had him pinned against the matt, her face looming over his.

“You win this round,” he admitted, to which Acxa only smirked down at him.

He was waiting for her to let go and let off of him, but instead he felt her grin loosen, and she kept looking at him. Just as he was about to say something, she started to lean down, and Keith. Well. He panicked.

“Uuuuuuh!” he protested and started to try to crawl out from under her loosened grip.

Acxa immediately picked up on his discomfort and surged back into a crouch in front of him, at a much more comfortable distance.

“I’m sorry,” she said as Keith sat up. “I thought…” she trailed off.

“I’m gay,” he told her bluntly.

Now she looked very confused. “I thought you were half human, half Galra?”

“No, I mean, yeah, I’m that too, but I mean I like boys. And only boys,” he tried to explain.

“Oh.” She turned her eyes to the floor. “Excuse me.” She was up and out of the room from one moment to the next, and Keith only groaned as he fell back onto the floor, dragging his hands over his face.

“Well, that could have gone a lot better,” a voice suddenly spoke up, and Keith shot up to find Veronica in the doorway, looking rather amused.

“What did you see?” he asked.

“Only Acxa making her quick escape, looking pretty sad I might at, and then your emotional yoga pose on the floor.”

Not much then. Keith sighed. He decided that it was probably time to hit the showers, since the alternative looked to be sharing the room with Veronica who wouldn’t. Stop. Looking. At him.

“Look, I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t tell anyone about what you saw,” he told her.

“Why?” She raised a speculative eyebrow.

“Because Acxa don’t need to have rumours spread about her on a new planet where she only knows like ten people,” he said bluntly.

“What about yourself?” she pushed.

Keith only shrugged at her. “I only care what my friends think of me, and they’d believe my side of the story over rumours any day. Though I’d rather avoid having to explain myself in the first place.”

“Fair enough” she said, and he turned to leave. “Nice braid, by the way,” she called after him which caused Keith to freeze in the middle of the doorway.

 _Quiznak_. The McClain family were going to be the death of him.

* * *

Allura found herself with a predicament of sorts, in regards to her feelings towards a certain Paladin. She had been made aware of how profound they actually were a while ago, but it was when, she begrudgingly admitted to herself, she was falling for Lotor and his tertiary. She had felt at a loss as to what to do, since Lance was her friend and she did not wish to hurt him.

Yet he had been there for her, ready to comfort her, when Lotor had shown his true colours, and for that she was forever grateful.

Lance was an all-around lovely person, she thought to herself as they sat and went through maps together. After the loss of the castle, the team did not have an accurate map of the universe anymore, and so they had to integrate pieces of different maps that the rebels had brought with them to Earth. It was tedious work, and so she, Lance, the rest of the Paladins, but also members of Lance’s family and others from the Garrison all sat in the same room together, working on making 3D renderings of the material they had, and piecing it together like a puzzle. They had been at it for vargas now, and while Allura wasn’t one to complain over work so essential as this, she was still grateful when Keith declared them done for the day. It was evening anyway, and as he pointed out, dinner had been served in the communal hall a while ago.

Most in the room rushed to the dining hall right at Keith’s go ahead, but Allura watched Lance take his time to collect some papers he had scattered around his work station.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked him. “Alone,” she clarified when not only Lance but also, Veronica, Rachel, Luis, Hunk _and_ Keith all quickly turned to look at her. Lance took notice of all the eyes on her too.

“Sure,” he replied, and nodded for her to follow, leaving his papers in a semi-pile by his station. They both ignored all the looks in the room, and Allura found herself lead to the roof of all places. The sun was setting and casted a blood orange glow over the desert landscape.

“It’s kind of funny,” Lance mused out loud, “this is where Hunk and I followed Pidge to the night Shiro crashed landed after escaping the Galra the first time. She was sitting over there, listening to alien radio chatter, and then it went haywire just as Shiro broke the atmosphere.”

“So you all went to investigate?” Allura questioned; she knew the story, but didn’t mind hearing it retold once more.

“Right. Hunk didn’t wanna go, but he also didn’t wanna sneak back by himself.” Lance laughed.

They both fell quiet for a while, admiring the view, before Lance spoke up once more.

“What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked.

“Right,” Allura said. She hadn’t prepared anything to say really, and now she regretted it. This was surprisingly hard and a whole new kind of terrifying. She took a deep breath. “Lance… A while back, the mice shared a secret with me. Namely your feelings towards me.”

Immediately, he tensed up beside her. “Look, Allura,” he started to say, but she interrupted him.

“Please don’t say anything until I’ve finished,” she asked of him, and he fell silent. “I hadn’t realised that those were your true feelings before then, and well… You’ve always had this flirty attitude, and so I thought it was more of a game of sorts, a back and forth between us.

“You have always been a great friend to me, and I know that I can rely on you.” She smiled at him, and though Lance looked uncertain, he smiled back tentatively. She figured that it was now or never. “What I wanted to tell you is that… those feelings are mutual.”

She observed as Lance’s face shifted. First confusion, then apprehension, then he blinked rapidly as if he was processing.

“Since when?” he asked.

Allura felt her face heat. “I couldn’t tell you,” she confessed. “I suspect I have been building up to it for a while.”

Lance turned his gaze back to the sunset, his eyes set far away as if he was looking for something. An unease began to sprout inside of her as he kept quiet, yet she had no said her piece and it was his turn. Though, she had thought she’s be met with a more instantaneous, joyous decoration of affection, rather than this contemplative state of mind that she now found Lance in.

When he finally did speak, it was nothing like what she had expected.

“What about Lotor?” he asked, still not looking at her.

“What about him?” she replied, and only then did their eyes meet once more. Lance looked as if he was in pain, his whole person stiff and face sullen, which did not match Allura’s emotional state at all, though the initial unease she had felt was now starting to bloom.

“You were in love with him,” Lance reminded her and though his tone was not unkind, there were few things that could make her feel as bad as those words.

She laughed uncomfortably, an instinctive reaction. “I don’t understand what that has to do with this,” she said.

“Did you have these… these feelings for me before or after Lotor?” he continued, ignoring her comment.

“What does it matter?” she helplessly asked, dread now starting to take over her state of unease. This was _not_ what she had to talk about. They Lance didn’t seem happy with the subject either.

“It matters,” he said, his voice, though it was quiet and measured, it felt razor sharp, cutting into her, “because if you felt like this before Lotor without doing anything about it, then he just swept you off your feet with his, I don’t know, funny accent and white hair or whatever, and that’s one thing. But if you felt it after, and I suspect you did, then that means that while you were getting over a space prince that turned out to be a psycho, you looked at me, your friend, who you knew had feelings for you, and thought to yourself maybe, I don’t know, that compared to a genocidal maniac, I was not so bad.”

“That’s not—” Allura started to protest, only Lance wouldn’t let her.

“When the mice told you how I felt,” he spoke over her, “in that moment—what did you feel? Were you happy? Ecstatic?”

She hadn’t been. She had felt dread and pity, since she felt that she couldn’t give Lance what he wanted. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, or Lance just simply knew her well enough to discern what her reply would be, because he sighed dejectedly.

“But that was then, and this is now,” Allura tried to argue.

“It still means that I come second to—to _Lotor_. If he hadn’t turned out to be crazy, then you’d still be with him, wouldn’t you?” Lance pointed out; a cruel, horrible point at that. “Allura,” he breathed, tears in his eyes. “ _I love you_.”

Those were the words she had hoped—wished—to hear, when she had asked to talked to him before. Then why did it feel like her heart was breaking?

“I really do,” he insisted, his voice breaking, a tear spilling over and down his cheek. “But I wanna be someone’s first choice. I want someone to love me like with the same devotion that I’d feel for them, like nothing else matters. And you cannot give me that because you’ve made your choice. And it wasn’t me.”

Her lungs gasped for air. She felt her heart pound in her throat. The sun had set and a cold purple started to swiftly cover the sky with its gruesome hue.

Lance turned to leave, and though she wanted to stop him, to grab him and shake him, to ask him if this was really real, she did not. Despite her feelings, she had to respect him—because he _was_ her friend first, foremost, forever.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but he still caught it.

“Me too,” was his response. Then he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *wheezes* _I live!_  
>  So sorry for not getting this out sooner, it really was my intention to just do a quick little thing for post season 7, but alas, life happened. It took season 8 for me to muster up the energy to finish this off.
> 
> I've had the intention to make a final part of this little series, so subscribe if you wanna be on the look out? :)
> 
> Oh, also, not beta read, but I'll read through it again later!

Shiro was minding his own business, taking an evening walk just as the sun had set, reminiscing over times of past, when he heard a sniffle. Immediately, he was on high alert: someone was sad in his vicinity. He would not stand for it.

He peaked around a corner to see someone walking away from him. It was a familiar silhouette, tall, broad shoulders, and slim waist.

“Lance?” Shiro called out and the figure stopped, tensed, then turned.

“Shiro, hi!” Lance exclaimed in an overly happy fashion, seemingly to try to fool Shiro that he hadn’t walked sadly down the corridor. The horrible thing about it was that had he not heard Lance’s sniffle, he would probably have fallen for it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently, walking up to Lance.

“Nothing! Why?”

It was going to be the hard way then.

“Lance,” he started. “I know that you have more things weighing you down than you like to let on, and I’m sure that having your family around has helped you deal with some of it. But the team is a found family in a way, and I want to help you too.”

Lance inhaled deeply, turning his face away from Shiro, who watched him in the florescent lighting of the Garrison. Now that he was closer, Shiro could see the reddened corners of Lance’s eyes, and a few streaks where tears had fallen on his face. Then, a wobbly exhale, and the dam was broken. Lance started to bawl right there in the middle of the corridor, and the only thing Shiro could think to do was to hold him.

Lance didn’t seem to mind, and instead all but pressed his face into Shiro’s chest and clenched the fabric of his uniform like a koala.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Shiro helplessly tried to assure him. Regardless of what Keith thought, Shiro was winging it for most of the time. “Whatever it is, we’ll solve it.”

“I,” Lance’s voice broke. “I think I just rejected Allura.”

 _Hot quiznakian fudge cakes_ , was Shiro’s first, genuine thought. “Let’s talk about this somewhere more private, yeah?” was the first thing he said, though.

With an arm around Lance, Shiro lead him back to the apartment that he had shared with Adam back in the day. It had been an absolute gut punch to find that not only had Adam kept living there once Shiro left for Kerberos, but Adam had also kept some of their old photos up, like he had wanted to be reminded of him as he lived on.

Now was not the time to dwell on that, however, as he had a crying Paladin in his arms, and he lead them to the sofa.

For a while, they just sat there. Shiro thought it best that Lance decided himself when he wanted to talk, even though Shiro was actually _really curious_ as to what had happened that make Lance reject _Allura._

“… Have you ever been in love?” Lance finally asked after a solid ten minutes of crying quietly into Shiro’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“How did it happen?”

“Oh man,” Shiro said, thinking back. “I think it was rather gradual, you know? We were flight partners, had been good friends for years, and then one day, when we were arguing about something stupid really, it just hit me how I didn’t want to argue with anyone else. And Adam, well, it was like he could read my mind or something because he paused in the middle of his rant and just _looked_ at me for a good five seconds. I was scared shitless—I thought he was gonna tear me a new one. But instead he just walked up to me and it as like he was staring right into my soul and he told me that he loved me. And then, because I really hadn’t expected that I said ‘neat’.”

Lance laughed with his whole body, his shoulders shaking, and he shook his head as he tried to wipe away his tears with the back of his hand.

“Who knew you’d be such a nerd, huh?” he chuckled. “Did you know you liked guys before Adam?” was his next question.

Shiro didn’t really see the red thread between this and what Lance had been crying about, but it seemed to do Lance good to talk about, so who was Shiro to deny him?

“Well I’ve always kind of known without knowing, if that makes sense? Like I knew I didn’t like girls the wat a lot of peers did. At first I thought it was because I hadn’t come across the right one. But then I caught myself starring at classmates and actors and so on, and I kept dismissing it at first, making up excuses for it. And later, one day, Adam was explaining his bisexuality to me because I mean, he was my friend and I was curious about this part about him, and well. It just clicked.”

“Adam was bi?” Lance piped up.

“Yeah, he used to have a girlfriend when we first became friends, and I didn’t really see it at the time, but in retrospect I realised that I was actually really jealous of her.”

“… You’re pretty slow on the uptake, aren’t you?” Lance teased, and Shiro laughed at his comment.

“Only when it comes to myself, I believe. I knew Keith was gay long before he told me, but I guess that’s the benefit of an outside perspective.”

Lance’s eyes widened. “Keith has been gay this whole time?!” he shrieked.

“Well yeah,” Shiro confirmed.

“I thought he had a thing with Acxa!” Lance continued to barrel on.

“Wait, Acxa?” Shiro was so confused right now.

“Yeah! I mean he went after her back when we were captured by her former comrades, and when she showed up here they’re almost always together when he’s got time to spare—I mean she even went with him and Krolia to his dad’s grave!”

Sparing the question as to how Lance knew all that for another day, Shiro instead decided on focusing on calming Lance down a little. “When you put it like that…” Shiro admitted. “But they’ve only met like three times before we were captured,” he reasoned.

“Like that matters,” Lance muttered and pulled his legs up to hug them. he had a pout on his face, and wasn’t it for the fact that it was still so very obvious that he had been crying, Shiro wouldn’t have hesitated to call him endearing.

“So I guess I should tell you about the thing with… with…” He was choking up again.

“If you want to,” Shiro told him. “If you’d rather be distracted and talk about other things, then that’s fine too.”

Lance peaked up from where he was hiding his face in his knees. “I feel really bad for not telling you apart from your clone. You’re so nice and considerate and he was… not.”

This wasn’t really something Shiro had thought he’d talk about today, but hey, if there was ever a time for he and Lance to just air all their dirty laundry then this was the time to do so. Even though it wasn’t his memories but his clone’s, Shiro did remember some things from the time his clone spent with the team—including moments when the clone wasn’t the nicest to Lance.

“I’m sorry that he treated you like that,” he told him.

“It’s not your fault,” Lance replied immediately. “It wasn’t you—you even tried to tell me that but I didn’t get it.”

“Look, Lance, what happened back then when I tried to reach for you when you were all in the lions, it’s not your fault for not hearing me. You had the strongest connection with Black after Keith, and so I thought that I could reach you, but there was still too much interference. It’s not your fault for not figuring it out—no one else did either, and I mean, hindsight is 20:20.

“As for the clone himself, I believe that he picked up on how you wanted to look out for the team and since you were the one trying to go against him, he went the hardest on you. Still, I feel like I need to thank you for it, since you tried to keep Voltron safe when I couldn’t.”

“Thank you, Shiro. That means a lot, coming from you.” Lance was so small there on his couch, which made Shiro just want to bundle him up and feed him soup until he was back being the fun-loving boy Shiro knew.

Lance sighed and looked away from him once more. It was obvious that he was gearing up to Talk™, so Shiro waited him out.

“Allura asked to talk to me alone, so I took her up to the roof,” Lance told him. “She told me that she had feelings for me, and I, well, I wanted to be happy but I wasn’t. Because all I could think was that it took her dating freaking _Lotor_ to notice me. And I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that, but I feel like I’m just some rebound to her—like I’m some second rate kind of boyfriend material. And even if she’d never think that, I know that her feelings developed _after_ him, and whatever she does will always be compared to her feelings for him and I—I just can’t _stand_ to be compared like that. Like I’m the fall back, because what? I’ve always been there and it took the dude turning evil for her to consider me. Why wasn’t I good enough by myself to her?”

Lance hiccupped as he started to cry once more, and seeing how truly broken up he was broke Shiro’s heart. Thank God he caught Lance in the hallway because he could not stand the thought of Lance going around with all of this inside of him. It was a tough predicament that Lance had found himself in.

Gently he asked if it was okay if he touched him, to which Lance nodded between hiccups, and Shiro pulled him towards him, embracing him, which Lance once again sank into, holding onto Shiro’s metal arm like he was afraid that Shiro would send it flying.

“… I think that despite how much you’re hurting right now, that was a really mature choice you made,” Shiro murmured into Lance’s hair. “You recognised that it was something that would be bothering you down the road, so you put a stop to it before it could even began.”

“But it _sucks_ ,” Lance sobbed, to which Shiro had no answer but to hold just a little bit tighter.

Quite understandably, Shiro was hesitant to let Lance leave his sight after such a cry-fest, and Lance himself did not want to be alone either as far as Shiro could tell. Yet they were both too wired to fall asleep, so after a while Shiro simply asked if Lance had any show or something that he wanted to catch up on. It seemed to be the right thing to say, as Lance’s eyes lit up a little, and he tentatively confessed that he hadn’t watched the new Star Wars movie that had come out just as Shiro had crashed in the desert. The fact that there was a new Star Wars movie at all was news to Shiro, and when they went online they found that there was even a _newer_ one that they both had missed.

“Star Wars marathon?” Lance suggested.

“Star Wars marathon,” he confirmed.

They started with the original trilogy, and though it was so old it was embarrassing, and both of them physically winced at times when the movies showed their… dated ideals on some subjects, it was still also fun, as they pointed out the more campy and inaccurate parts of space travel. But it was when they were watching episode VII that Lance said something other than pointing out a fun inaccuracy or plot hole.

“Do you think Poe is hot?”

Shiro glanced at him. Lance was blushing a little, and his eyes were fixed on the screen.

“I mean he’s not unattractive if that’s what you mean, but he’s not really my type,” Shiro answered lightly.

“Oh.”

Lance was silent until they were reaching the end of the movie, where Finn and Poe reunited.

“I think I think Poe is hot,” he mumbled then, quietly like he didn’t want Shiro to hear it.

“Well that’s fine to think,” Shiro answered anyway.

“I’m starting to think that too. But I still think that Leia is the best.”

“Well, she is,” Shiro agreed. “What you feel about one character don’t have to affect what you feel about another.”

“… yeah,” Lance whispered.

* * *

Keith was filled with all kinds of anxiety. He had not seen or heard anything since Lance and Allura went off on their own last night. Neither of them showed up for breakfast (in fact neither did Shiro, though Keith dismissed it as an odd correlation), no one else had seen any of them either, and when he finally crossed paths with Veronica, she looked at him like _he_ was supposed to have a clue what was going on.

“Lance isn’t in his room,” she told him in lieu of a greeting. “Have you seen him?”

“Not since he and Allura went off last night.” Keith was starting to panic because what if the two of them… but why should _he_ care whether Lance got together with Allura or not?

Veronica’s eyes widened, and suddenly she looked almost apologetic, like she had drawn the conclusion that Keith was so desperately trying to avoid.

“I see,” was all she said. She hesitated a little, but then decided that she had nothing else to offer him (fair enough), and walked away.

For a while, Keith stewed by himself, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. He wanted definitive answers, but at the same time he _definitely_ didn’t want to go knocking on Allura’s door because quite frankly, he was afraid of what he may find behind it. Instead he opted to check if Shiro had woken up yet (and maybe whine a little to him).

What he found when he walked into Shiro’s living quarters was not what he had expected however. There on Shiro’s couch he found not only Shiro but also the man of the hour—Lance himself, curled into a ball, leaning into Shiro who sat draped over him, all while the TV was on, some action film playing on low volume. The sight brought with it a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. On one hand he was _so reviled_ to find Lance without Allura by his side; it was obvious that he had spent the night here and not with her. But on the other hand he became filled with an unreasonable jealousy towards Shiro, who was hugging Lance in his sleep—who had gotten to witness Lance when his guard was down. It terrified him, the seeding resentment he felt, for he arguably loved Shiro more than anything in the world, yet he had to keep down the urge to separate the two.

He was wondering if he should just leave and pretend like he hadn’t found the two of them like this when Shiro stirred, always a light sleeper.

Keith stood frozen in place as he watched Shiro blink awake. First Shiro noticed Lance at his side, to which he smiled softly, which only made Keith’s heart clench. Secondly he seemed to hear the soft noise of the TV, which made him look up, and then thirdly, ley eyes on Keith.

“Oh, hi,” he whispered to Keith across the room. An ‘oh, hi’ like he _wasn’t_ cuddling with the guy Keith…

Keith shook his head.

“You slept through breakfast,” he said instead as quietly as he could muster, wishing to not wake Lance, much like Shiro also seemed to do. Meanwhile, Shiro dragged his free, cybernetic hand over his face.

“Yeah. Rough night. We tried to catch up on Star Wars,” he told him.

Keith thought that now he could maybe make a strategical retreat, only to bear witness to Lance jerking awake, seemingly unprompted, and in fact jerking so hard that he fell off the couch.

“Lance!” both Keith and Shiro cried out simultaneously, and Keith rushed forward without thinking, even though Shiro was already there, giving Lance a helping hand.

“You okay?” Shiro asked softly as he pulled Lance into a sitting position.

“Yeah, fine,” Lance muttered and then looked up, noticed Keith and promptly squealed “Keith!” out loud.

Having Lance’s eyes on him made him very conscious of himself—how his uniform was buttoned to the point of becoming a choking hazard, his clamy hands that were clenched into fists, his hair still braided, though much less put together after a night of sleeping with it.

Lance seemed to focus on getting off the floor, though, thankfully.

“H-hey man, when did you stop by?” he spoke in a wavery voice as he smoothed out the uniform he had been sleeping in.

“Just now, the two of you missed breakfast,” Keith answered.

“‘kay.” Lance glanced over at the TV, where the action was still going, and then turned to Shiro. “Isn’t that Rogue One?” he questioned.

“I think the playlist we made must have looped,” Shiro replied.

“Huh…” Lance glanced around for a moment before visibly collecting himself. “Well I don’t know about you Shiro, but _I_ need a shower,” he declared and started to walk away. “See ya later Shiro, French braid!” He waved and then he was gone.

Keith snapped his head back to Shiro who had an insufferable grin on his face.

“What happened last night,” he demanded.

“French braid now is it?” Shiro shot back and Keith felt himself blush.

“Shut it!” he hollered back; it was too early this. Then he stomped away.

* * *

Lance had not expected Keith to be there when he woke up. He also hadn’t expected Veronica to be waiting for him in his own room.

“Where have you been?!” she more or less exploded at him.

He just groaned. “It’s too early for this,” he muttered as he tried to walk past her and grab his toiletries so he could hit the showers. He hadn’t been lying before—he really needed one after sleeping in his uniform.

“No, you don’t get to walk past me, I was worried sick when you didn’t show up for breakfast, and when Allura said that she hadn’t seen—”

“Allura?” he cut her off. “You went to Allura?”

“Neither of you were there, and she was the last person to see you so it seemed like the logical next step,” Veronica explained.

“How… how was she?” Lance inquired, trying to keep his voice steady, though he starred down at the towel in his hands.

“She…” Veronica hesitated. “She seemed tired. But she was awake when I got there.”

He reckoned that that was as good as he was going to get without sounding like he was prying.

“Lance,” Veronica spoke his name in a much gentler tone, placing a hand on his arm. “What happened?”

“‘T’s too early for this,” he repeated like a broken record. “I just wanna shower and change into something less disgusting.”

She eyed him up and down. “You slept in your uniform?” She sounded way too appalled by it—it wasn’t that big of a deal, really.

“Just drop it, Veronica,” he begged her.

“Lance, I’m worried about you,” she started to go off again, and he appreciated her sentiment, he really did, but he didn’t want to be around people asking questions he hadn’t figured out the answers to yet.

Hoping to avoid saying something he’d come to regret later, he yanked his arm back and started to go to the showers.

“… please don’t be here when I come back,” he stopped to tell her in the doorway, back still turned because he knew he wouldn’t like the look on her face.

* * *

Veronica was starting to realise that the brother that had gone to space was not the same as the brother who had returned. On a theoretical level she had always known that—experiences shape a person after all, and Lance had been away for so long. But knowing it and understanding it were two different things.

“Did you find him?” Rachel asked right away as she spotted Veronica entering the dining hall were most of their family still sat gathered even though breakfast hours were over.

Veronica nodded. “He went to take a shower,” she replied.

“But where was he?” their mum asked, still very concerned which made Veronica feel even worse because she didn’t have any answers to give.

“He didn’t say,” he told them all. “Just asked to be left alone.”

“That’s not like him at all,” Luis pointed out and Veronica just shrugged.

“I think… that he’s been through more than he’s willing to tell us,” she said.

“We’ve been through things too!” Rachel protested, not that happy that Veronica was taking Lance’s side in this.

“But we all had each other,” mum spoke up. “Lance did not.” Her words carried an echo through them. “We will have to wait until he is ready to tell us things, and make sure that he knows that we are there for him when he needs us,” she told them all, dad nodding in agreement beside her.

It was not a really satisfying solution, even if it was a fair one; Rachel looked ready to protest, while Veronica herself just felt defeated. It was hard to see her brother so obviously troubled yet being unable to do anything about it to solve the predicament he had gotten himself caught up in.

Still, she was glad that she had insisted to be the one to look for Lance because she knew that Rachel and Luis wouldn’t have let him run off so easily. And like mum said, she needed to consider his feelings—trust that he would come to them when he was ready.

She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it however, as she continued on with her day. Every now and then she’d catch herself going over her conversations with Lance—at first it was just the most recent one, but then it kept doing, all if their interactions since he had returned, flickering across her mental plane. All of it, she tried to reckon with what had happened.

Something with him. Something with Allura. Something that excluded Keith.

Maybe Lance had made his move and gotten rejected. It seemed plausible at first, but the more she considered it, the less the idea seemed valid. She did know Lance a great deal, and she knew what he was like when he had a crush—namely because it was a stark difference between that and all those girls he had had running after him in middle- up to high school. When he liked someone he would do anything to get their attention. That was an absolute fact. The second thing was that he rarely realised that his obsession was in fact attraction—most of the time it was either adoration or resentment. Which was why Keith was still part of this damn equation; Veronica remembered how competitive Lance had been when it came to him as he first enrolled in the Garrison, all those rants about that pilot in his class and so on and so forth.

The more time she had had to think of it, the more she realised just how Allura and Keith were two parts of the same coin of type when it came to Lance, both capable, admiral people with agency and passion, though expressed through vastly different means of personality.

But Lance had only ever pursued girls before.

“Oh my God,” Veronica said out loud as she sat up straight in her chair. Her brother was having a bisexual (pan? queer?— _LGBTQ-related_ ) crisis. Of _course_ he wanted to be left alone. If he had spent several years in space and just _now_ realised that he might be not straight them he had some serious mental gymnastics to do and having a prying family who would question and distract was probably the last thing he needed.

She had already been resolute in doing what their parents had said and leaving him alone—but there was a big difference between that and actively making sure that no one else of her family would get  to him either. But Veronica was nothing if not capable.

“… You okay?” a timid voice asked beside her and she turned her head to find Captain Shirogane giving her a concerned look.

“Yes sir!” she jerked back saying. She really hadn’t noticed his approach.

“You seemed like you were thinking really hard so I was gonna leave you alone, but then you talked and looked like you had discovered the meaning of life or something,” he commented jokingly. Normally she would avoid talking about her personal life with a superior officer, especially someone so revered as Shirogane, but she did remind herself that this was the same person that had spent those years in space _with_ Lance. This was primarily, before her superior, her brother’s teammate and friend.

“Well,” she mulled over her words. “Lance have been a bit off today and I think I finally figured out why.”

“Really?” Shiro said, and even though his face didn’t change at all, Veronica got the feeling that he knew something she didn’t. “What’s that?”

She shook her head. “I don’t wanna say it until he says it himself, there’s definitely a possibility that I’m mistaken and either way it’s his decision what he wants to share or not. I was just so frustrated that I had a problem in front of me that I couldn’t solve—well until now at least. Now I think I can actually get back to work,” she joked.

It was a curious thing to witness, how Shiro’s gentle but polite smile turned into a genuine beam of light. “I think it sounds like you got everything figured out, for now at least,” he complemented her.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Anytime. But call me Shiro.”

* * *

Pidge had spent every waking moment, excluding eating and hugging her family, since she got out of the hospital, tying to analyse the machine with the unconscious Altean in it that had almost kicked their collective ass. So far she had gotten nothing, which was quite the predicament, and she did not like it.

She was in one of the smaller rooms that the Garrison had provided her with, and while it was no Green Lion’s hanger, it was good enough. For now. Once they took the operation into space on the Atlas, she would make sure that she had a better room. Sufficive to say, but she had already looked over the blueprints and chosen her spot.

While people came and went from where she was every now and then—people checking in on her progress, feeding her, dragging her to bed, the likes of it—she was still surprised to find Lance in her doorway, especially so soon after breakfast. Sure, he had checked in on her once she had gotten discharged with the rest of them, but he would usually stop by in the afternoon and try to coax her into taking a break or eat some more or something.

“Is it okay if I hide here for a while?” he asked her, adding to her suspicion.

“Sure,” she said anyway. “From who?”

“Everyone? It’s just a little too much right now,” he told her as he sat down on the floor behind her desk, out of view from anyone walking into the room.

The thing was that Pidge did know. She just wasn’t aware that _Lance_ knew.

She mulled it over at bit before saying, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.” Then he fell quiet and Pidge resumed her work, assuming that he would start talking to him sooner or later.

But then an hour passed and Lance had not said a work. Tentatively, Pidge glanced down at him. He was sitting with his legs crossed, leaning back against the table, and though he was bouncing is leg gently, he appeared a lot more placid than draped in his usual zealousness. It was off, the more she thought about it; it was not the mannerisms that she had come to expect of him.

Conclusion: Something _big_ had happened.

Lance reminded her of a computer more than anything in that moment. Processing.

She wondered if she should ask him. Usually he would blur out his woes completely unprompted, but like she had already found—it had been an hour and he had said absolutely nothing. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t? Since Lance hadn’t breathed a word beyond his initial request to hide (and he had to be hiding with _her_ for a reason, she mused), he maybe wasn’t ready to talk.

Because he was processing.

She decided to give him another hour, and if he hadn’t spoken by then, then she would consider a better ice breaker than ‘What’s your problem?’ because even she realised that that was quite an insensitive and blunt phrasing.

A while later, but definitely before her arbitrary hour was up, Shiro stepped through the door.

“How’s it going, Pidge?” he asked with a smile, stepping up to her desk and Pidge had to physically force herself not to glance down at Lance to gage his reaction.

“All good,” she replied, maybe a bit too high-pitched but she was high-pitched anyway so whatever. She cleared her throat. “I mean, progress is slow, not gonna lie, and it’ll help when Dad and Matt comes back later today, but progress is being made.”

“That’s good to hear,” Shiro assured her. “I feels kind of weird to say, but I sort of miss space.”

“No I get it. Now that I have my family back, I wanna get back out there and put an end to this once and for all. It’s not finished yet,” she agreed, all while thinking that no, what was weird was Lance sitting by her feet, listening in to the conversation.

Shiro nodded, looking ready to leave, though something seemed to keep him back. After another moment, he cracked. “Lance wouldn’t have happened to stop by here earlier today, would he?” Shiro asked and Pidge had no idea to answer to that? Did she deny it? Half-lie? Half-truth? What was the protocol?

Lance seemed to decide for her.

“I’m here,” he spoke up, raising his hand for Shiro to see but not otherwise moving.

“Oh.” Shiro only seemed mildly surprised as he walked around the desk to look at Lance fully.

Now that Pidge could look too, she took in the interaction like it was a tennis match, trying to analyse both parties reaction to each other. Lance didn’t seem that bothered by Shiro, and Shiro gave Lance an understanding look, like he knew _why_ Lance had taken refuge by her work station.

“Kinkade came to me, you hadn’t shown up to your scheduled work out session,” Shiro told him, but Lance just huffed.

“Work out, more like shooting competition. Griffin’s just pissy that Voltron is better than MFL so he’s trying to pit us against each other. At least Ryan’s a cool dude.”

Shiro chuckled. “I see. Well, I still felt I’d double check on you.”

“Thanks Shiro.” Lance smiled. “I just have to work through some things up here before I’m ready for people,” he explained, pointing to his head.

“Completely understandable. And you know my door is open if you need to vent.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

There was obviously a whole layer to this conversation that Pidge was missing, and she was really, _really_ curious about it now. Shiro waved to them both and left, and Lance seemed to notice her stare.

He raised an eyebrow.

She raised an eyebrow.

It was a Paladin standoff.

She. Would. Not. Cave.

Lance wasn’t even blinking.

Her eyes were staring to dry. Irritation in the corners. Vision slightly unfocused.

She blinked.

 _Dammit_.

“Hazah!” Lance cheered, throwing his hands into the air as she hung her head in defeat. Though Lance’s new elevated mood was rather contagious, and she had to bite back a smile.

“Thanks, by the way,” he spoke out of the blue.

“What for?” she prompted.

“Not asking. I know you want to.”

Well, _yeah she did_. But as she regarded him once more she was glad she hadn’t because looked really thankful for it. And if it truly was as big of a deal as it seemed to be, then she reckoned that she would find out sooner or later.

“No problem.” She smiled back.

Lance stayed with her until her dad and Matt showed up, hours later, though they actually talked a little, when Lance thought she needed a mini-break or so. He even braved the outside world to get her a glass of water and came rushing back into the room like he was the missing spy from Mission Impossible or something. It was hilarious to watch, that’s all Pidge was saying.

Once the rest of the family came back though, Lance just traded a few quips with Matt, saying that he should learn to put his hair up properly and then he left them.

* * *

Keith had resolved to go on with his day, trying his damnedest to avoid both Axca and Allura, while still keeping a lookout for Lance. He hadn’t seen any of them, so it was at least 2/3s good. He did have to endure smug looks from Shiro however, looking like he knew something Keith didn’t, and a quizzical McClain family, however. Not only had Veronica talked to him this morning, but then Rachel and Lance’s brother Luis had also approached him at different points. It was to the extent that even Krolia, who paid no mind to human drama whatsoever, took notice.

It finally became too much for him at dinner time, and since Lance had seemingly avoided human interaction all together the whole day, Keith decided he’d follow his example. He sneaked off to the hanger where they kept the lions, thinking it would be a good place for solitude. The Garrison had to give up a whole annex for them. It was nice though; only specially authorised personnel (read Team Voltron and the Holts) had access to it, which in turn meant that the number of people who would stumble upon him in there dropped dramatically.

When he entered, however, he heard the tell-tale sound of someone falling off something, which meant that someone else was already in the hanger. Keith immediately went to investigate—either someone he knew had hurt themselves, or there was an intruder that he had startled. Either way, he couldn’t leave this particular cat-in-the-box unopened.

Sandwiched between the front paws of Red and Black, Keith heard a pitiful moan that sounded all too familiar.

“Lance?” he asked as he stepped closer to find Lance on his back, spread out on the floor. Their eyes met and Lance groaned, and then looked away, muttering something to himself that Keith didn’t catch.

Wordlessly, Keith stepped forward and offered his hand, which lance accepted. Carefully, he pulled him up.

“That’s the second time I’ve walked in on you falling off something today. Try not making it a habit, yeah?” Keith joked, trying to lighten the mood. Lance actually smiled a little.

… and Keith reminded himself that he had to let Lance’s hand go now that the hold had served its purpose.

“What are you doing here?” Lance asked, seemingly not thinking about the awkward hand-holding.

“S-same as you, I imagine, trying to find a quiet place,” Keith responded, with a shrug. He wasn’t going to lie to himself, he was really glad that he had stumbled onto Lance—and without any Altean of McClain by his side at that. “I can go find another one if you wanna be alone, though,” he offered. It was clear that Lance had wished to be alone, and for all that Keith was happy to see him, he also didn’t want to intrude.

But Lance shook his head. “It’s not about being alone, per se,” he said, looking off into the distance. “It’s more that I don’t want others to pry—I have all this introspective stuff to do, and I can’t have Veronica and mama asking where I slept last night going on, on top of that. They’ll have to wait.”

“I can respect that,” Keith said, to which Lance gave him another small smile. It was kind of like feeding quarters into those machines and getting your favourite flavour of bubblegum—sweet regardless of what you got, but extra so when he got Lance to smile for something he did.

Together, they sat down in between Red’s paws, hidden from view of the doors. Apparently Lance had been on top of the paw before, but they both knew how that turned out.

For a good while they sat there in silence, even though Keith’s skin itched with how much he wanted to talk, to break the quietness between them. But more importantly, he wanted it to be on Lance’s terms, and so he kept quiet.

Lance seemed to know hi quite well at this point, however, as Keith noticed when he glanced at him and scoffed

“I’m surprised that the braid is still intact; I figured you’d remove it by now,” he said.

A safe, nice topic.

“Why would I do that? It’s practical,” Keith told him.

“Just figured it be a violation of your bad boy aesthetic,” Lance commented playfully.

“I don’t have a bad boy aesthetic,” he argued.

“Sorry, _emo_ aesthetic,” Lance countered.

“I don’t have _an_ aesthetic,” Keith insisted.

“See, no, that’s literally impossible!” Lance proclaimed. “Since you’re a being, existing in the world, to wear clothes and grow hair into, in your case, horrible hair styles, you by definition have an aesthetic because of how you appear.”

“My hair just grows like this!” Keith told Lance for the umpteenth time.

“But choosing to not do anything about it is just as much of choice to get a haircut!”

“It’s hair!”

“It’s your aesthetic!”

Keith scoffed at the pure ridiculousness of the argument, which only opened the floodgates to a contagious laughter that erupted between them. Lance leaned on his shoulder like he couldn’t help but to hide his face in Keith’s shoulder, and it sent sparks of exhilaration like something aching to a fizzy drink spilling over. He drew a deep breath; Lance smelled like a fresh breeze in the morning after a thunderstorm, and Keith’s stomach turned into a husk.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was _not_ the time to have these kind of revelations.

Scrambling for something to say, the first non-Lance related thing he came up with was “Acxa tried to kiss me yesterday.” Behold: Keith, The Idiot.

“ _What?_ ” Lance shot up, staring intently at him, his face waaay too close for the subject at hand. Then he said a thing that Keith definitely wasn’t expecting to hear. “ _I knew it._ ”

“Wait-wait—you knew _what_ exactly?” Keith objected, leaning back.

“Dude, she’ve been into you the whole time—it was visible from literally galaxies away,” Lance said like it was obvious. It was not obvious.

“I’m _gay_ ,” Keith protested.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you’re flamboyant about it or anything,” Lance pointed out.

“Not everyone has to conform to the queer-straight binary like you,” Keith retorted, to which Lance fell silent.

Shit. He messed up again.

Lance leaned back against Red, looking at the floor and he pulled his legs up by his hand in what Keith now recognised as his vulnerable position.

_Shit._

“I’m,” Lance started, and Keith held his breath, not daring to even have that interrupt him. “I’m not,” he whispered. “Straight.”

“Oh…” escaped Keith’s lips. “Well. Er. Welcome to the club?” he tried.

Lance burst out laughing, leaning into his legs as to hide his face.

“Oh my God,” he chuckled. “That’s not how I expected that to go.”

“What did you think I’d say?”

“I don’t know.” Lance shrugged, keeping his eyes downcast. Just… didn’t think you’d just accept it without any questioning.”

“Who am I to tell you what you are? I think that’s your job. Mine is to respect what you tell me,” Keith reckoned. He knew that real life wasn’t that simple, but it didn’t have to be all that complicated between the two of them at least. “I trust you with my life—and I trust your word. Except anything you say about my hair because you’re way too fixated on that.”

Lance giggled, uncurling, and finally those brilliantly blue eyes met Keith’s once more.

“Thanks Keith.”

Keith’s heart swelled.

Lance wasn’t his Adam, or his someone or anything other than _Lance._ And Keith was most definitely, irrevocably, in love with him. Probably had been for a while.

“Anytime,” he assured him and he _meant it._

Lance didn’t need to hear of his realisations right there and then. Keith could wait. He _would_ wait. Being patient wasn’t that much of a predicament when it was something worth waiting for. And Lance most definitely was.


End file.
